


Twice as Blind

by Darksknight



Category: Marvel, X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe- No Powers, Charles manages the restaurant finances, Erik owns a resturaunt, M/M, No Proofreading We Die Like Men, Secretly Married, everyone else works at said resturaunt, join us on this journey of discovering that Charles and Erik are not in fact single, wrote this instead of sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:29:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9551093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darksknight/pseuds/Darksknight
Summary: Erik is probably the biggest asshole on the face of the earth, and because of this, he'll probably die alone. Charles is a complete flirt and playboy and, probably, will never commit to anyone ever.(The lesson here is that when you have two friends who are BOTH secretly seeing someone, well, it's probable that they're seeing each other.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> The whole “Erik is awful and yet he has a husband who could it be” thing has been done thousands of times, probably, but I love the trope too much to let it slide. So, here’s my completely unnecessary version AND the bonus- “Charles is an outrageous flirt and there’s no way he’s ever going to commit except what the hell he’s married?”

Erik is an asshole. 

Not in the cool way either. Sometimes you’ve got those assholes you can’t help but actually like, because there’s something about them that just manages to put off how asshole-ish they are. No- Erik is an asshole, and it’s as pure and simple as that. 

So it comes to everyone as a surprise the day that Alex comes speed-walking out of the back, looking not so much like he’s been reprimanded into doing his job right, but more like he’s about to spontaneously combust. It’s not as though that’s a foreign look on Alex, it’s just that there’s usually a lot of anger coupled with it. Not shock. 

Sean practically throws himself over the counter while Angel and Emma head over with a little more discretion. The lot of them are all incredibly weak to gossip, and especially gossip about the asshole cook and boss holed up in the kitchen. 

“The deets, the deets, the deets!” Sean chants. He keeps his voice down by some miracle to avoid Erik’s wrath. “Come on man you look like-“

“I interrupted Erik on the phone.” Alex breaths. 

They all lean in. 

“So?” Angel asks. 

“It’s not as though this is the first time we’ve seen him slacking off in the back, sugar.” Emma drawls. She’s been there longer than anyone, and she knows more than they do that even though Erik has a very strict work ethic, he takes being the boss in stride and believes that since he’s in charge he can do whatever he wants. He’s not wrong. 

“No, it’s-“ He swallows and looks over his shoulder. “It’s more than that.” 

“Go on.” Angel prompts. She tries to look carefully disinterested, staring at her nails, but her body gives her away as she leans in to hear better. There’s a table trying to make pointed eye-contact with her, but she ignores them. They can wait. 

“He was saying goodbye when I stepped into the kitchen.”

“And?” Emma prompts. 

“Yeah, AND?” Sean strains himself to whisper. 

“And when he hung up he said, ‘goodbye, dear.’” 

They stare at him. 

“No.” Sean says, incredulous. “You’re making this up.”

“I fucking swear on my _life_.” He hisses. 

Emma tucks her hair back behind her ear, already appearing to lose interest. “Oh, honey, you know he was being sarcastic. Probably talking to-“

“It was _very_ sincere.” Alex breathes. 

They stare. 

“So… who was he talking to?” 

“Hell if I know. It was on his cellphone.” Alex pushes his hair back from his head, and then seeing the table staring at Angel, sighs. “I’ll get them their check.” He mutters. Angel will just have to half him her tip, if she gets one at this point. 

That leaves the three to speculate and grow the rumor. 

“It was code.” Sean says. “He’s working with the CIA and that was code for. For something.” 

“Working with the CIA?” Emma muses. “Not likely.”

“If it was genuine, that means there’s someone out there who Lehnsherr doesn’t hate. A girlfriend?”

“Isn’t he gay?” Sean asks. 

“Bisexual, sweetheart.” Emma checks her nails and leans against the counter. “And if he has a lover…”

“We have to save the poor soul.” Sean realizes. 

“Not my problem.” Angel says. “But… I am curious.” 

“So we’re going to have to keep a vigilant eye.” Sean decides. “If-“

“Emma, Angel, Cassidy. Get back to work.” Erik barks, leaning out of the kitchen to see what the service hold-up is. They all startle before nodding and scuttling off in their respective directions. 

He doesn’t realize it’s not annoyance in their eyes- it’s purpose.

 

-

 

Charles Xavier is attractive. He is the exact opposite of Erik Lehnsherr; he’s cute, he’s short, and he’s everything you’d want to bring to Christmas dinner to both please the parents and shove in your cousin’s face. 

He’s also a massive flirt. 

“Hank, darling, could you pass me those?” He peers out from under his thick, dark eyelashes, blue eyes catching the dim light of the restaurant. Hank swallows and does as he’s told.

_How the hell did this guy end up doing_ taxes _of all things?!_ Hank’s not one to judge, and he likes numbers, but god- he could be a model. Then he wouldn’t have to come down into Lehnsherr’s abode and be harassed about prices. 

The restaurant is getting ready to close for the evening, so there aren’t many people around. Everyone has gotten pretty used to Charles, since he handles pretty much all of the finances- including their weekly pay. He’s a nice guy, really, and they all feel pretty badly about allowing him to fall into Erik’s clutches. They have no idea how much Erik’s paying him but, god, it can’t be nearly enough. 

“Thank you.” Charles smiles like he’s got dirty secrets on you that he intends to keep. It’s a lot more arousing than it sounds. 

“Need a refill, Charles?” Angel asks sweetly.

“Oh, yes, darling, that would be wonderful.” He happily hands her his teacup and bends his head back down to work- he doesn’t have to place an order because they’ve got a box of tea specifically for Charles hidden above the coffeemaker in the kitchen. Honestly, it’s the least they can do. 

Emma slides into the booth next to Hank, pushing him closer to the wall so she can flash Charles a blinding smile. She’s still trying to crack him, which one would think to be easy since Charles is such a huge flirt, but god he’s a damn tease. “Anythin’ I can get you, sugar?”

He looks up at her and gives another small smile. “Oh, that’s quite alright, love. I’m sure you’ve all been working hard enough all day, take a breather, please.” Charles is always telling them to relax, and Hank is sure that if Erik weren’t in the back cleaning up, he’d be annoyed at least and pissed at worst. 

Azazel, another one of the cooks, comes out from the kitchen, apron slung over his shoulder. “Xavier.” He says. “Let me know when you’re done and I’ll lock up.”

“Lehnsherr had to go settle something with the meet supplier or whatever.” Alex explains, leaving the kitchen as well. He spots the last table occupied and glares at Angel as she comes happily traipsing out of the kitchen with Charle’s tea. “Would you take care of your fucking customers?” He hisses. 

Hank sighs. “I’ll do it.” He forces Emma out of the booth and heads over to the last people mingling for the night, contented to work while the others fawn over Charles. Too much fawning isn’t good for his heart. 

Charles’ phone rings about when Hank finishes up. He settles back down at the table next to Charles, knowing there’s no way Emma is going to move over again, just as Charles answers. 

“Light of my life.” He says upon picking up.

Light of his life? In a casual, well-known, fond sort of voice? They all exchange looks. It’s not secret that half the staff is crushing hard on Charles, and even if this is a brief fling, it’s still competition. Sure, they don’t have to worry- Charles isn’t ever going to settle down, but still. 

“Oh, yes, he told me, don’t worry.” A pause. “Yes, of course. It’s no problem. Alright, see you soon… I love you! Goodbye.” He hangs up.

They stare. 

The L word. People like Charles- one night stands and flings and no such thing as commitment- doesn’t use the L word. Not in that context.

“Who was that?” Emma asks casually. 

“Hm?” Charles looks up. 

“On the phone.”

“Oh, Erik, of course.”

Angel chokes on a laugh. 

Hank just considers Charles. Dodging the question with a joke? This is definitely serious. Cause for investigation, even. 

“Alright, all finished! Early, might I add- you were all incredibly helpful, so thank you for that, loves.” 

Hank flushes at the praise. 

Yes. They will be looking into this.

 

-

 

Moira is the only pastry chef good enough to compete with Erik. She spends the days watching Erik flit between the food side and bakery side of the kitchen with unflappable confidence and ease, wondering how the hell he’s still alive. Does he even sleep? He’s a monster. 

… And a good baker, she has to admit. His bread is to die for.

The others have informed her, recently, of a disturbing fact. Two, actually- her good friend Charles is apparently seeing someone, and it’s serious, which is a bit of a bite since she’d thought they were good enough friends that he would have brought such a thing up in casual conversation. That aside, though, is the second, more ridiculous ‘fact.’ Erik, who literally hates every living being on the face of the earth, is also seeing someone. And if he called them "dear" without an ounce of sarcasm, well, that’s even more serious than Charles saying “I love you.” 

She's always been good at getting information. She’s less good at getting information from Erik. It took her two months before he would tell her the restaurant's bread recipe. Two. Months. 

“So, Erik.” She says. 

“Less chatting.” He mutters. “You’re putting too much sugar in that.”

She glares at him. “That was hardly chatting.”

“Fine.” He pulls the sugar out of her hands and dusts his current creation with it, quickly, efficiently- just like everything else he does. “What is it you want to talk about? Make it quick; the lunch rush will be in soon.”

… There is a person out there, somewhere, who can put up with Erik. The idea baffles her. “Well, you see, we’ve known each other for quite some time. I thought perhaps we could make small talk every now and then.”

“Pointless.” He grumbles. 

He didn’t say ‘no,’ though, so she barrels on. “How’s life been?” She starts.

“Fine.” There’s a pause where a normal person would say, ‘you?’

“Well, that’s good.” Moira continues. “Me too.”

He grunts in acknowledgment. 

“And your love life?” The longer she beats around the bush, the more chance she has of him ignoring her entirely. “Good as well?”

“I said life was fine, not good.” Erik says. “It would be better if my employees focused more on work and less on small talk.”

He doesn’t mean it. “So I take it then that the love life’s not so good.”

He pauses to raise a brow at her. Finally- progress. “Where would you get that idea?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I just never see you out…” She trails off as Erik’s brow furrows. 

“You’re right.” He says, slowly. He wipes his hands off hurriedly on the front of his apron before fishing his cellphone out of his back pocket. He flips it open and hits a button- speed dial, holy shit this _is_ serious. He doesn’t even bother to say hello. “Cancel any plans you have for the night,” he commands. “We’re going out on a date.”

A pause. 

“Well, no. Yes. I can’t- Obviously! No, not now. Later. Yes... Yes. Of course, dear. Yes, I’m going, I’m going. You too. Goodbye.” He hangs up and then puts his phone away, immediately turning around to wash his hands. 

Moira watches him go with wide eyes.

“Everything alright?” Azazel asks, from across the kitchen. 

She swallows. “This is much more serious than we first thought.”

 

-

 

Chalres is back on Saturday night, like always. He doesn’t take long to do his work, and usually the staff is busy cleaning up despite trying to hang out with him. Hank gets his stuff in order as early as possible to bring Charles his customary tea, wondering who actually found out what kind of tea Charles liked best and then bought it. Points to them. 

The restaurant is depending on him. If Charles actually gets serious with anyone, then who’s going to boost restaurant moral after a grueling week with Lehnsherr? If Charles gets with someone long term, maybe he’ll realize eventually that coming to the restaurant every week is over-kill. If Charles- god forbid- actually gets _married_ , ignoring how it will ruin his life because the boy is such a flirt it’s bound not to work out- well, then Charles is going to hear over and over again how stupid it is for him to be handling all the funds of Erik’s restaurant and then he’ll leave and never come back and, probably, the place will go bankrupt in a month. 

He has to further investigate, even if he does show his hand in doing so. 

“So, um, I was wondering.” 

Charles looks up, a lock of hair falling in front of his face at the motion. He looks adorable and Hank hates his life. “Yes, Hank?”

“Well… If I wanted to take someone out. Like, on a date-“

“Oh!” Before Hank even has to go so far as embarrassing himself, Charles is taking the lead. “I went out on a date myself the other night. This new bar on the edge of town called Logan’s. The owner was a little odd, but the liquor was simply first class.” 

“Oh. A date, huh?” 

Charles beamed. “Oh yes. With work, you know, we just get so busy I think we forget to just have dates now and then, don’t we?”

So maybe this was a new date in an interrupted line of otherwise serials. Maybe all hope isn’t lost just yet. “So this was your first date?”

“First date there, yes.”

Hank lets out a long breath of relief. “Oh, well,” and then backs up. “First one… there?”

“Yes. I’m hardly a stranger to bar dates, why, that’s where we first met, you know, even if he likes to pretend our second meeting was the first. Have you not heard the story?”

“I… um, can’t say I have?” Is this really happening? There's no way that the mystery is going to be solved this easily.

“Well that just won’t do.” Charles laughs. Then he catches sight of his watch and winces. “Though I suppose that will have to be a story for another time, but do remind me. How many years have you been working here, again?”

Hank blinks at the sudden subject change. “Uh… since just after it opened?” Charles knew that.

“About two years ago then.” Charles laughs. “My, time flies, I can’t believe you’ve never heard the story.” He looks down at his watch again, as if reminding himself. “Next time. You’ll have to remind me, love, I’m awful with recalling what I’ve said out-loud and what I’ve only thought about a few hundred times.” 

Hank nods. He needs to finish helping Alex with the dishes anyway. 

And divulge his new information. 

He heads to the back, where Angel and Alex eagerly await him. “So?”

“We’ve got a major problem.” Hank concedes. “He’s been seeing this guy for a while- and yes, it’s a guy, Charles said 'he' for sure.”

“A while? How long are we talking here? A week?”

“He said they’ve been on several dates but he also seemed shocked when he realized he’d never told me how he and this man met. And then asked how long I’ve been working here. So we might be looking at two years.”

“Two entire years!?” Angel gasps. 

Alex grimly shakes his head. “Maybe they were separated.” 

“Or it could be on open relationship.” Angel reason.

Alex sighs. “Wouldn’t that be ideal? But no. Come on, we all know Charles. Two years? This guy has to be ready to propose by now, I mean, who meets Charles and doesn’t want to keep him for the rest of forever?”

“Moira.” Hank reasons. 

Alex rolls his eyes. “That’s because Moira is too reasonable for her own good.”

“Yeah.” Angel says. “I mean, even Erik would be weak to Charles.”

“Even Sean, the only straight person here, would be weak to Charles.”

“I’m straight.” Azazel says, quiet until then where he was cleaning up the kitchen. 

Alex turns around to give him an incredulous look. “Just last week you said you would fuck the guy that always comes to fix our air conditioning- Jason or whatever the fuck.”

“Janos.” Angel helps. 

Azazel considers that for a second. “You got me there.”

Alex rolls his eyes and turns back to Hank. “Point being, we’re still in trouble. If Charles gets married his husband is going to want to point out how stupid it is that he does like. All the money stuff here.”

“I know.” Hank mutters. “We have to find out who this guy is.”

“And kill him.” Angel says. 

Alex and Azazel nod, both of them seemingly thinking about how it would have to be done. Hank stares at them in horror. “Uh, no? The worst we do is sabotage a date or two!” 

“Like, kidnapping?” Alex asks. 

“I can kidnap.” Azazel adds. 

Hank throws his hands up in the air. “Are you all criminally insane? No- no, don’t answer that. I was thinking going on a date and ruining everything, you know. Maybe make it look like one of them is cheating, I don’t know.”

“That could work.” Alex reasons. 

“But first, we need to figure out who this guy is. How are we supposed to do that?”

Hank thinks for a second. “Emma.” He finally decides. 

The three before him all grin and nod. “Emma.” They agree. 

 

-

“No way.”

Sean and Armando gaze pleadingly at Emma. They’re the only ones there on early morning shifts with her, and they’ve been tasked with begging her to snoop for the collective good of the restaurant. Emma is the most like Erik. Emma is the best at finding secrets. Emma is the slick, calm, cool, and collected one amongst the bunch. 

“Please, Emma? Just a quick peek to see what he’s hiding?”

“I’m not a mind reader.” She snaps. “There’s no such thing as ‘a quick peek’ when you go looking for something. You have to _dig_ , sugar. Now go finish the dishes. I have a table to check on.”

“I’ve got it!” Sean declares, leaving Armando to fend for their cause. He’s off in a wink, leaving Emma to stare Armando down- unimpressed. 

He sighs. “Look,” he says, straight and to the point. “If we find out who Erik is seeing-“

“Last night I had to deal with everyone begging me to look into who Charles is seeing, and, well, yes, I took up on that one because lord knows I want to make that boy mine for a night or five, depending on his flexibility. But Erik?” 

“Lehnsherr hates _everyone_.” Armando reasons. “Aren’t you curious as to who he’s seeing? If they get married, and they’re both awful, we’ll all have to suffer through it. And if they’re not, really, it’s our job to protect the poor person, whoever they are-“

“I don’t really care about protecting anyone.” Emma stops him. “But you make a good point about the double-asshole proponent… Fine. I’ll look into if. For my curiosity.”

“Thank you, Emma, we owe you-“

“Yes, you do. Everyone, and I mean everyone, will pitch in to buy me a good dinner and a few drinks. A lot of drinks. This isn’t a negotiation.”

Armando deflates. “Yeah. I’ll… get on that.”

With that, Emma turns and flounces over to the counter, sure that Armando and Sean will pick up her slack while she goes to snoop through records. Charles keeps everything neatly organized beneath the register, and last she checked, also did Erik’s personal finances since they were tied into the restaurant somewhat. If she could find receipts to any fancy dining or date-esque places, she’d have a lead, and from there they could start to speculate. Or, if he had a phone bill in the mix, she might be able to find the date’s number and go from there. 

She pulled out some of the more recent things. Groceries, mostly for the restaurant, but maybe some for home… Oh, Charles had taken care of Erik’s taxes, that was funny, and-

Oh. 

Oh god.

She shoved the records sloppily back under the counter, standing up fast enough to make herself dizzy. Sean and Armando looked over to her, curious, and she frantically waved them over. 

“What?” Sean slid up with a tray of empty dishes in his hand. “What is it?”

“Don’t leave us in suspense.” Armando took his time ringing up the bill for his own table.

She swallowed. “Erik is…”

“Well?” Sean shout-whispered. 

“Erik is _married._ ”

They both flinched away from her, as though shocked. 

“What!?” Sean actually yelled. Several people looked their way, but cool looks from Emma had those heads turning back to look at their food. Sean lowered his voice. “What?”

“He’s married.” She breathed.

“For how long?” Armando hissed. 

“For…” She ducked back down to the records box and pulled out the file she’d only sort of shoved back into the folder. The numbers didn’t lie. “He’s been married for seven years!” 

“It’s one of those things were you get married in your home country and then you leave and you don’t get divorced because it’s too much-“

“It’s not.” Armando says, certain. “Remember? He was married when he lived in Germany, but his wife died.”

They all look sadly down when remembering that. The restaurant is always closed on the anniversary of her death.

“Right.” Emma says, recovering. “And he came here eleven years ago, remember?” Sean had called him a spy a few two many times, until eventually Erik had blown up over how spies didn’t go on ten year missions. That had been last year. “So whoever he married, it was here. He’s… he’s _married_ to someone. Whoever he was talking to on the phone has put up with him for _seven_ years.” 

They all shudder, just thinking of it. Erik is cool, sometimes, but god. How?

“This is more scandalous than Charles.” Armando says, off-handedly. 

Emma narrows her eyes. “If he’s married, too-“

“He wears a ring.” Sean says. 

“His class ring, right?” Armando says. 

Emma thinks. “He… never told us that’s what it was. That’s what Moira guessed.”

“Holy shit.” Sean breathes. “Charles is-“

“Charles is what?”

They all look up in fear as Erik looms over them. 

“… Married?” Sean squeaks. 

Emma considers shoving the young boy- a sacrifice to the wolves- and running.

Erik quirks up a brow. “Yes, he is.” He says.

They all gape. 

Erik surveys the three like they’re from another planet for a split second before her turns his back and heads to the kitchen. “Get back to work.” He says. 

“Yes boss.” Armando says, weakly. 

This. This is quite the development. 

Charles and Erik. Both married. 

The world is coming to an end. 

-

 

Hank stares. “You.” He blinks. “You’re not Charles.”

A girl, a girl who is very much _not Charles_ has been summoned to the table where Charles writes up their pay for the week. A girl who is not Charles is frowning down at a scrappily written list and several checks. A girl who is not Charles looks up, quirking a single brow, and says, “Well I’d hope not.”

“Who the hell are you?” Angel rudely demands, slamming the tea she’d brought for Charles down on the table. “You’re not Charles!” 

“So I’ve been told.” Mystery-girl says. She looks down at the checks before her. “You’re Angel?”

Angel narrows her eyes. “Who’s asking?”

The girl rolls her eyes. “I’m Raven, Charles’ sister. He’s at a seminar, and he didn’t think he’d be back by tonight. So here I am. Bored. Not watching Netflix with my cat. We all have to make sacrifices. Here’s your check.” 

Angel snatches it up, eyes looking Raven over again. And again. 

Hank clears his throat. Raven is, unreservedly, hot. She’s nothing like Charles but she’s something amazing all on her own and- and she probably knows all about Hank’s most recent dilemma. Everyone’s most recent dilemma, really, because how could they not have known that Charles was _married_? 

“Um.” Hank starts. “I uh…”

Raven looks up at him and smiles. “You’re Hank.” She decides. 

“Y-yes, that would be me.” He adjusts his glasses. “I was wondering if I could ask you-“

“Yes, alright, give it here.”

He blinks. “Um. What?”

“Your phone.”

Not understanding, but still powerless against Raven’s intense gaze, he hands his phone over. It doesn’t have a lock on it, and Raven opens his contacts up and starts entering her number. Oh. She thought he’d wanted her number. 

“Here you go.” 

“Oh, um, thanks.” Hank makes sure it’s saved. “But that wasn’t what I was going to ask you.”

She lifts a brow. “You haven’t even texted me yet and you’re going for the date?”

He pinks. “What? No- I mean. Well. This isn’t about that, it’s about-“

“Your brother is married.” Alex, who’d heard everything from a table away, where he’d been cleaning, leans over to the booth. “And we want to know what the hell is up with that.”

Her eyebrows both shoot into her hair line. “You mean. He’s never told you?” When they nod she snorts. “My brother? Mister oh-my-husband-is-so-adorable-and-wonderful? Mister ‘oh Raven come look at this picture of my beautiful husband I took isn’t he amazing?’ My brother. The guy who literally can’t go two seconds without talking about how he’s the luckiest man in the world?”

“Uh…” Alex even looks a little uncomfortable now. “Yeah. That’s the guy.”

Raven laughs. “I mean, I get that he only comes in here to do the numbers but he doesn’t blabber? I guess he figures you guys would get tired of it or whatever since you’re the employees, but still.”

Angel wilts. “So he really _is_ married then.”

“Yep.” Raven laughs again, shaking her head. “I mean, come on. Every second it’s Erik this, Erik that, oh Erik you’re so charming and adorable-“

“WHAT?”

Raven looks up in surprise when she receives a shout from three sources at once. Even the others, who’d been holed up in the kitchen to close for Sunday pop out in curiosity. Raven blinks. 

“Uh, yeah.” She says. “What? You thought that Charles did all the taxes and money and stuff because. What? Erik hired him? Who the hell hires someone to take care of their phone bill?”

They stare at her. Unmoving, unblinking. It’s not possible. It’s not. 

Erik is a bastard. 

Charles is a flirt. 

And they couldn’t- they can’t. There’s no way it would work on a date, let alone a year, or years, and holy fucking hell they’re _married_? 

Charles bursts in through the front then, wrapped up in two scarves. “Sorry I’m late! Hope Raven didn’t have to do too much-“ He pauses, finding three people staring at him. All the staff is there, it’s the end of the month, and the end of the week, and they're all looking at him in frozen shock. “Oh, I do believe our wait staff is broken.”

Erik comes out of the kitchen toweling off his hands. He brushes past Emma and Aramando and Azazel, all crowded in the doorway to see what the commotion is about. “Raven,” he mutters, “Please refrain from breaking my employees.” 

“Well you’re the one who never told them you’re married!” She calls out. 

Moira suddenly joins the crowd of spectators, Sean at her side. “What’s going on?”

Erik looks over at the door to the kitchen, spilling over with people. “Are you all stupid?” He says. He pulls at the thin chain around his neck- they’d assumed they were dog tags- until it’s out of his shirt. It’s a fucking ring. 

Charles blinks in surprise. “Surely one of you realized-“

“Apparently not.” Erik grumbles. He steps to Charles’ side and links their hands. “There. Now you see. Charles and I are married. Get back to work.”

“What!?” Angel shrieks. “It doesn’t work like that- you. You two. Married!?”

“How much is he paying you, Charles?” Alex demands. “Is blackmail?”

“Wh-“ Charles blinks. “N-no. I… Genuinely love Erik? As my husband?” He laughs a little. “I can’t believe none of you ever knew-“

They all open their mouths and start talking at once, but Erik silences them with a hand up. “Finish locking up. You can handle it without Charles and I for once. We’re going out... And Moira?”

Moira blinks. 

“You lost me twenty dollars. Expect hell Monday.”

And with that, the two are off, leaving the restaurant in bewildered chaos behind them.

 

-

 

“Pay up.” Charles says, grinning. He holds his hand out, sitting on the edge of their bed. 

Erik rolls his eyes. “I thought she knew.” He mutters. “She even got on my case about not taking you out enough the other day.”

Charles laughs. “Oh, darling, you really give them too much credit and not enough all at once.” He watches Erik changing out of his clothes. “Besides, I guess it’s me who really lost the bet in the end.”

Erik shrugs. “We both did.”

“You bet we could keep them guessing for a year.”

“I was wrong.”

“I bet a month. Erik, love, take those hideous socks off-“

“These are my comfortable socks.” Erik growls. Still, he does, throwing them into the hamper before falling into bed next to Charles. 

“Two years.” Charles muses. “It took them two years-“

“You’d be very surprised what people will miss when you don’t just come right out and say it.” He pulls at the ring around his neck. “Azazel assumed this was my class ring. Who wears their class ring around their neck?”

“Raven.” 

“Raven.” Erik nods. “If it weren’t for her, we could have kept this up at least another month. Maybe we would have hit a third year.”

“Oh well.” Charles laughs. Leaning over, he presses a kiss to Erik’s shoulder. “Now you don’t get any excuses. We’re inviting them all to our anniversary party.”

“Damn it. If it weren’t for Raven-“

“They would have figured it out before the party, dear.” Charles laughs. “Now, about that twenty dollars…”

“We share a bank account.” Erik grumbles. “My twenty is your twenty is my twenty-“

“Then I guess you’d better pay me in a more… _unconventional_ manner.”

Erik cracks open an eye, about to sass Charles, when he remembers something. Now that they no longer have this stupid bet going… 

He grins. 

_Time to traumatize the lot of them._

Twenty dollars worth of hickeys and a low cut shirt is all it’s going to take to make the waitstaff cringe in horror for the weeks to come. Maybe them knowing wont’ be so horrible after all. 

“I’ll take you up on that offer, Charles.”

Charles grins. “Well,” he says, and reaches out to push his husband’s shirt off. “Your move, darling.” 

 


End file.
